


Moondust

by obikin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Anakin Skywalker, First Time, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Love Confessions, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Padawan Braids, Riding, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, anakin's 20 don't get weird, but do be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obikin/pseuds/obikin
Summary: Whenever he had envisioned this, in his darkest moments, he had expected it to feel wrong. He had imagined that kissing Anakin, wanting him in the most basal of ways, would feel like a betrayal. A betrayal of his vow to be Anakin’s master, a betrayal of the Jedi code and the Order. He thought it would feel exciting and secret, so bad that it would be good.He did not expect the Force to sing around them, to feel the love swell within his heart. He did not expect it to feel so, undeniably right.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 9
Kudos: 472





	Moondust

**Author's Note:**

> warning: although anakin is 20 in this, it's still padawan/master porn and it's very explicit in that fact. if that's not your deal, i suggest you click away.
> 
> title from moondust by jaymes young

It wasn’t unusual for Anakin to climb into his master’s bed.

At least, it hadn’t when he had been younger. Until his mid-teens, Obi-Wan had entertained the young padawan, even though it was advised that he not. When he was first brought to the Jedi temple, Anakin had often complained of the cold, instead huddling against Obi-Wan for warmth, burying his face in the Jedi’s robes, seeking warmth.

Obi-Wan had known it wasn’t exactly the conservative approach he had anticipated in his teachings, but he couldn’t say no to Anakin. When he was young, Obi-Wan would allow the padawan into his bed, read him stories and pet through his hair as Anakin would thank him for not leaving him alone, for saving him. Maybe that made Obi-Wan too proud, too attached to this boy that clearly thought Obi-Wan was the sun.

Perhaps that is what prevented him from saying no when Anakin continued to climb into his bed far past what even Obi-Wan considered acceptable. At one point in time, when Anakin was fifteen, he crawled in beside Obi-Wan without a word and hugged his master, and for the first time, Obi-Wan realized that this was not a boy that he was comforting. Anakin’s arms were strong, and his shoulders were broad, and they were practically the same height now. As Anakin drifted off to sleep, cradling Obi-Wan in his arms, the Jedi had vowed to never let this padawan – now a man – into his bed again. It simply wasn’t appropriate. Anakin had adapted to Coruscant’s climate, so there was simply no need. Even if it was beneficial to them both after a difficult mission, even if Obi-Wan found the smell of Anakin’s hair the most comforting thing in the galaxy. It needed to stop.

And it did. Until Anakin was twenty, and tall, and headstrong, and determined. And Obi-Wan couldn’t help but look at him with equal amounts pride, admiration, and longing that a Jedi should definitely not feel, especially for one’s padawan.

Anakin all but stormed into Obi-Wan’s apartment through their adjoining door. Obi-Wan had been reading, and raised an eyebrow at the irritation that was radiating loud and clear through their training bond. Anakin’s brows were furrowed, his mouth downturned in a pout. His padawan braid swung wildly as he huffed, stomping into the living area where his master sat cross-legged on a meditation mat, the book now lowered to observe the padawan in front of him.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan greeted, testing the waters.

“Master, attachment is forbidden for Jedi, yes?” Anakin asked, his eyes all but boring into his master’s. Obi-Wan couldn’t help the confusion that shone on his face, as if he hadn’t had this conversation with his padawan thousands of times over Anakin’s (very touchy-feely, very possessive) training.

“Of course it is, Anakin.” Obi-Wan was concerned as to why his padawan would even ask him such an obvious question.

Anakin threw his hands up as he paced in front of his master, the exasperation coating their bond.

“Then why is it that I just saw my fellow padawans kissing – kissing, master! In the room of a thousand fountains! Just out in the open!” Anakin’s voice was trembling as he tried to keep his volume under control. His cheeks were colored, and Obi-Wan followed the padawan braid as it bounced with Anakin’s hand gestures.

This was certainly a conversation to have. Much less when his padawan was mere months away from becoming a knight. Had he not noticed what the padawans got up to? What sometimes the _knights_ even got up to? Obi-Wan wrung his hands. He had been anticipating this conversation four years ago, not _now_.

“Anakin, physical contact does not always equate to attachment,” Obi-Wan explained carefully, trying not to give his padawan any ideas.

There were some Jedi that could handle casual relationships. A way for them to blow off steam, attain release so that in battle they may be more focused and confident. That was possible for them, as they had great control over their emotions, their passion and attachment.

Obi-Wan knew Anakin would be incapable of such a relationship. Nothing about Anakin’s emotions could be considered casual. When he believed in something, it was with all his heart, and when he trusted someone, it was with a conviction that took Obi-Wan’s breath away when it felt it through their bond. He knew that Anakin would be incapable of cultivating such connections with his peers without breaking some aspect of the Jedi code.

However, Anakin had no knowledge of this. He stared at his master incredulously, his mouth slightly open in a small o. His brows were still furrowed, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but think that he looked cute like that, pouting at him, shocked and confused. Obi-Wan knew that he shouldn’t entertain such thoughts, but they had continued to slip around in his mind ever since Anakin has surpassed him in height. He kept releasing them into the Force, but they always returned.

“Wait, so we’ve been allowed to – to have relationships? This whole time?” Anakin was so confused, irritation slipping into his timbre. “And you never told me?!”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan began, rubbing the bridge of his nose, asking the Force to give him strength. “For some Jedi, it is possible to maintain some form of relationship without breaking the code. For others – like us – such a feat is impossible.”

“Us?” Anakin all but yelled, the sarcasm palpable. “How could you possibly know what I’m capable of- “

“I can feel it in our bond, my padawan. Your shields are weak, and your emotions are strong. When you love, you love completely. Such an emotion does not come without attachment, without possession.” Obi-Wan wanted to stand firm on this issue. Anakin was not subtle about his attachments, his interests. He saw the way his padawan looked at Padme Amidala. He felt the way he longed, how often he desired, not just Padme, but in general. Anakin would be incapable of following the code if he engaged in the physical pleasures he was asking of. It would be impossible.

“But aren’t the Jedi supposed to love? To show compassion, and to – to care about people completely?” The emotions swirling through their bond were too much for Obi-Wan to decipher, but he sighed and tried to imagine what Anakin might be feeling, experiencing.

“The Jedi are supposed to love, yes. But not possess, or form attachment. Such things act as distraction, Anakin. You know this. And as your master, I know that when you love someone, it does not come without some form of attachment. When you love, you love deeply.” Obi-Wan held nothing back, trying to help his padawan understand the severity of what he was asking. He understood Anakin’s frustration, his desire. He had suffered through the same discussion with Qui-Gon when he was younger than Anakin was now. He understood how crushing this could be, but Anakin needed to understand.

“So, the other padawans are able to feel love, but I’m not, is that it? I’m just supposed to release those feelings into the Force too? That love, that trust?” Anakin was all but screaming now, looking as if he were going to cry. Obi-Wan desperately wanted to hold him, to comfort him, but he knew he would need to go through this with Anakin. It would be best ripped off like a bacta-patch that was pressed on too tight.

“You are allowed to trust your fellow Jedi, Anakin, but Jedi like us… it would be too dangerous for us to participate in trysts. When I was younger than you, I would have given up my position in the Order for love. I’m sure you would do the same. It is safer for us to keep those connections at camaraderie – at a level for which we may feel security in battle, but not in… more personal matters.” Obi-Wan was as clinical as possible, as thorough as he could be, but Anakin was still glaring at him.

“That’s bantha fodder,” his padawan spat, and Obi-Wan started. Anakin never swore like that – it was startling, how strongly Anakin felt on this matter.

“My love makes me stronger, master. I was always ashamed of that – of knowing that I loved, and that I felt strongly. You taught me that those feelings were wrong. That they were against the code, master! For years, I felt broken, inadequate! I felt trapped within the Order!” Anakin was yelling now, towering over Obi-Wan where he sat on the floor. He simply sat and listened, letting Anakin’s words flow through him, willing himself to understand his padawan.

“I loved, but I held myself back so many times, master. So many times. And I tried to release my emotions into the Force, but it never worked. And I tried to stifle myself, but it never worked!” Anakin roared, clenching his fists against his sides. His emotions were strong, and negative, but they came from a place of love. A place of desire for love. Obi-Wan’s heart hurt with the ferocity of Anakin’s pain.

“I’ve loved for so long, and I never knew that I could act on it. I thought I had to hold it within myself until I died, stifle it until I exploded!” Anakin screamed. Obi-Wan briefly wondered if their neighbors could hear.

“Anakin, you-“ he tried, but his padawan cut him off, and this time Anakin took a knee, to look Obi-Wan in the eye. And instead of anger, or betrayal in his eyes, Anakin stared at Obi-Wan with fierce determination.

“If the Jedi are allowed to love, master, I want that opportunity. If we are allowed to touch, and kiss – I know it would make me stronger.”

“Anakin, such things would bring you closer to the dark side,” Obi-Wan said as softly as he could, laying a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. His padawan closed his eyes, breathed heavily as he sank into the same cross-legged position as Obi-Wan. He must be steadying himself from anger, Obi-Wan thought.

“You have always been passionate, for a Jedi. You have always had strong emotions, strong convictions. When I was younger than you, my master had this conversation with me. That some padawans, some Jedi – they can handle such physical relationships. But others, like you and I – we cannot participate in them without falling to the dark.”

“Why not?” Anakin asked, his blue eyes burning with fierce, righteous fire. Obi-Wan couldn’t look away – he could never look away from the blinding brilliance of his padawan’s conviction, his complete trust.

“I can feel it within myself, master. I can feel the strength that comes from my love. The trust it forges. How it helps me understand others, how it connects me to the Force and the galaxy around us. My love is what makes me strong – it’s what makes me myself. It’s what makes me chosen,” Anakin said it with such conviction. Obi-Wan couldn’t counter that – he had no idea where his padawan was obtaining this information from, but he could tell that Anakin believed in it with his whole heart, with all of his power.

“And if Jedi are allowed to love each other – I know I could handle it. Against all odds. I know I could pull through.” Anakin’s determination was so strong, he was almost influencing Obi-Wan through their bond, unintentionally. Almost.

“This isn’t a podrace, Anakin,” Obi-Wan countered, but his voice was soft, and the words sounded ridiculous even to his own ears. Anakin laughed.

“I know that, master. There’s nothing to be won. Love isn’t a prize. It’s an experience, something wonderful.” Anakin smiled at him, and Obi-Wan felt his breath catch. He tried to shield himself from Anakin’s thoughts – his fierce determination, and his blinding love. It was almost too much for Obi-Wan to handle.

“Anakin-“ Obi-Wan started. He wanted to talk some sense into his padawan, warn him once again about how dangerous attachment can be, how distracting and even life-threatening it could be if it went too far. How Anakin shouldn’t be so dead-set on something his _master_ just told him was a bad idea.

But he was caught in Anakin’s gaze now, the man staring at him like he could see Obi-Wan’s soul. Like he could see all those feelings his master had released into the Force, every time he ever dreamed of soothing the hard lines on Anakin’s face with his hands, his lips, every time he felt his hand lingered on Anakin’s shoulder just a fraction too long, and the heat seeped into his fingers. Like he could tell that if his master were to allow himself someone to love, that the council would never forgive Obi-Wan for it. That the feeling Obi-Wan had for his padawan extended far past a simple bond forged over training.

That he loved Anakin with all his heart.

“Master…” Anakin trailed off, some hesitation in his voice, doubt seeping into their bond. The confidence of earlier seemed to fizzle away as Anakin looked down, at his hands in his lap, only glancing up again after a short pause.

“Master, maybe if you’re concerned about my capabilities… you could teach me this too?”

He looked up at Obi-Wan through long lashes, and Obi-Wan willed himself not to gasp as he felt the hope, the soft, sweet love that radiated through their bond. Obi-Wan could all but cry, scream in frustration as he realized that Anakin’s love for his master extended far past boyish admiration.

“Anakin, do you understand what you’re asking of me,” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice grave. They both knew that Obi-Wan was rarely able to deny his padawan, rarely able to resist Anakin’s insatiable desire for trouble, for risk taking and heroism. Even if right now, the ill-advised action plays upon Obi-Wan’s darkest desires as well.

“I’m asking you to love me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin replied, his eyes pleading. He reached out and took Obi-Wan’s hand in his own – the rough callouses of Anakin’s fingers scraping over the soft skin near Obi-Wan’s wrist. The Jedi shivered, trying not to give in to the soft, gentle feelings that Anakin was actively projecting across their bond, nudging at his master’s shields.

“You are my padawan, Anakin,” Obi-Wan pleaded, but he didn’t draw his hand away, even as Anakin started to trace designs along his wrist, his touch so gentle and reverent.

“But I’m not a child anymore, master,” Anakin countered, drawing closer to Obi-Wan, daring him to move away, to move closer. Obi-Wan’s eyes darted to Anakin’s lips briefly – plump and soft and pink – before returning to their original gaze. Obi-Wan willed Anakin not to notice, but his padawan always was unusually observant at the least opportune times. All Anakin did was lick his lip and bite it gently, but it made Obi-Wan unreasonably warm.

Obi-Wan wanted to protest, wanted to warn Anakin, again, of their relationship to each other, wanted to yell or push away the younger man. But instead he sat frozen, only able to watch as Anakin glanced at his own lips, as he leaned closer. He could only hope to steady his breathing as the padawan braid brushed his shoulder, as Anakin’s breath ghosted over his lips.

“You want this too, master. Don’t deny it,” he whispered, their lips practically brushing. Obi-Wan shivered.

“You are my padawan-“ Obi-Wan grasped at the braid, tugged it for emphasis as Anakin’s breath caught. “-I should be protecting you from attachment such as this, I should be guiding you towards the right path – “

“But we both know you never knew how to deny me, master,” and this time, Anakin’s voice caught on _master,_ imbued it with a different association, a breathiness akin to a moan as he tilted his head to feel Obi-Wan tug on the braid again. And there was a lump in Obi-Wan’s throat as he looked at this beautiful man, his pink lips, the long line of his neck.

Anakin was right.

He never knew how to deny him.

It only took a second, a small tug in the Force - a tension snapping - and Obi-Wan closed the distance.

Their lips met softly, both hesitating. But when they did, Anakin gasped soft into the embrace, his entire body relaxing as Obi-Wan felt him release the tension he held into the Force. As he cradled Anakin’s face in his hand, as he had wished for so long, he felt how truly right this was. How the Force sang around them, how Anakin’s fingers threaded into his hair.

All he could feel was peace as Anakin deepened the kiss. Where Obi-Wan was slow and deliberate, Anakin would always be impatient and wanting. He sucked on Obi-Wan’s lower lip as he brought his hand to his master’s, twining his fingers with Obi-Wan’s.

That softness, the gentle desperation was enough for Obi-Wan to moan back, astounded by the sweetness of it all.

Whenever he had envisioned this, in his darkest moments, he had expected it to feel wrong. He had imagined that kissing Anakin, wanting him in the most basal of ways, would feel like a betrayal. A betrayal of his vow to be Anakin’s master, a betrayal of the Jedi code and the Order. He thought it would feel exciting and secret, so bad that it would be good.

But it wasn’t, at least, not in the way Obi-Wan expected it to. When Anakin couldn’t help himself and climbed into Obi-Wan’s lap, when he licked into his master’s mouth, Obi-Wan just felt complete. He felt as if the Force was cradling them in its own embrace as well. That even though, perhaps Obi-Wan had thought this would be wrong, or twisted, or a betrayal – that all it was, was love. True, happy, amazing love.

So he wrapped an arm around Anakin’s waist, and pulled him close, so their chests were flush, and when Anakin licked into his mouth and moaned so gentle, Obi-Wan ran his tongue over Anakin’s, and they sounded out in tandem. Anakin’s hand presses soft along Obi-Wan’s jaw, his thumb sweeping along the hard line of his jawbone, and Obi-Wan leaned into the touch as Anakin’s hand wound into his hair. It was all so right.

They only parted for air, the first time only taking a moment before diving back into each other once more. They kissed for what felt like hours, taking the time to explore each other’s mouths, for Anakin to press kisses along his master’s cheeks and neck, for Obi-Wan to slide his hands along his padawan’s broad shoulders, feel his strength as he held him tight. Seeing Anakin’s strength in training, and feeling that muscle, real and under his palms, were two completely different experiences entirely.

When they finally drew back, Anakin looked beautiful. His eyes were heavily lidded, pupils blown wide as he gazed at Obi-Wan, his lips kiss swollen, his cheeks a rosy pink. Obi-Wan wondered if he had ever seen anything quite as gorgeous.

“Master,” Anakin breathed, and it made Obi-Wan’s breath catch too, with the sheer love, the desire that Anakin held when he spoke. He tugged at Obi-Wan’s tunic, hesitant, but still so determined, still so Anakin that it made Obi-Wan’s heart flip.

“I want you, please-“ he begged, sliding his hands under Obi-Wan’s robes, and the skin-to-skin contact startled a gasp out of Obi-Wan. Behind his eyes, all of the deepest desire he would never have even dared to acknowledge flooded the forefront of his mind. Imagines of Anakin prone under him, of the young man begging Obi-Wan “master, please, harder –“ that he had never imagined, even in his wildest dreams, would come to fruition.

“Anakin-“ he replied, a little breathless, almost in disbelief. “Is this what you want?” he asked, ever concerned, so protective over the younger man. He always was. He used to lie to himself, say that it was because he had promised to watch over him, that he was bound by duty. But now he knew far too well that it was personal attachment that had forged those bonds, that continued to blossom into new, deeper connections that entwined them together ever closer.

Anakin looked at him, his gaze clear and confident. “Master, I’ve wanted you since I was fifteen. Please, I know what I want.” He looked Obi-Wan up and down, not dissimilar to how he would look at his master when he thought Obi-Wan wasn’t looking, nor the short glances he would catch before Anakin would rip his gaze away. They both knew – they both wanted.

“Then there’s no point in holding back, is there?”

Obi-Wan slid his hand under Anakin’s own robes, and the younger man shivered. His mouth opened in a small o as Obi-Wan uncovered him, drew the robes over his arms until Anakin’s chest was exposed. It wasn’t as if Obi-Wan had never seen this before – they often dressed in front of each other, and Anakin would often shirk his outer robes due to the heat. But there was something different coloring this vision of his padawan. Maybe it was the blush creeping down his chest, or the labored rise and fall of his chest, but Obi-Wan drew close to press kisses down his neck, nipping soft at the skin there, to mark his padawan as his own. His hands slid along Anakin’s chest, his abs, and Anakin covered Obi-Wan’s hands with his own, willing them downward, towards the loose pants under his tunic.

Obi-Wan could feel how hard Anakin was through his pants, felt how he tried to stop himself from grinding into Obi-Wan, but ultimately failed. It made him smile, thinking of how impatient his padawan was, how desperate and needy. Anakin could never wait for anything, so it made sense that he would tug at Obi-Wan’s hair and beg him, rutting against his stomach until Obi-Wan finally pushed his pants down. It made sense that Anakin would be so cute, blushing and needy.

They only parted for a moment as Obi-Wan threw Anakin’s pants to the side, discarding his own after. He couldn’t help but notice Anakin’s dark gaze as they drew close once more, skin to skin, touching each other as intimately as possible. Anakin pulled him in for another kiss, needy and dirty and quick, and when Obi-Wan pulled away, they were both dazed.

“I want to take you, master,” Anakin whispered, nipping at Obi-Wan’s ear, grinding against him in a way that made Obi-Wan see stars. “I’ve been practicing for you. Preparing. Thinking of you every time I touched myself.”

It should have been so dirty, but Obi-Wan couldn’t have imagined it any other way as Anakin pressed his master against the floor. His back pressed against the hardwood, and Anakin loomed over him, cock standing hard and proud against his stomach, looking like an angel. Obi-Wan couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

Anakin grinned, and on cue, a small bottle of oil pressed into his hand. Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow, since they both knew that the Force shouldn’t be used for such trivial things, but Anakin looked so pleased with himself that Obi-Wan didn’t have the heart to chastise him.

“I want you to do it, master. I want to feel you,” Anakin asked, pressing the bottle into Obi-Wan’s hands. He didn’t hesitate – he pressed Anakin close to him as he uncapped the bottle and slicked up his fingers. Once they were sufficiently covered, he squeezed Anakin’s ass, sliding his fingers against the softness of his entrance, just to get Anakin accustomed to the feeling. Anakin pressed closer to him, closing his eyes and sighing, rocking back against the attention. It was clear that he had been waiting for this, longer so than even Obi-Wan had. It was unusually easy for him to slide a single finger into his padawan, and Anakin only let out a small exhale that could barely even be considered as a gasp, as he relaxed against the intrusion.

Obi-Wan leaned up to kiss him, and Anakin relaxed into it, grinding back against his master as he gasped into the kiss. Both of them were equally inexperienced, but they were so eager – Obi-Wan pressed a second finger against Anakin, which he took slowly, deliberately, until Obi-Wan could spread them inside of him, leaving his padawan panting against Obi-Wan’s neck, rolling his hips back as Obi-Wan spread him open, pressing until he found the one spot that made Anakin cry out and arch against him, shivering at the sheer pleasure of it.

Obi-Wan was caught between pressing into him slow and teasing, to take the time to explore Anakin like he wanted to – or to simply press his dick into him now, to stretch him and take him, for Anakin to ride him until he was crying out and coming untouched. It was a stressful mental battle, but Obi-Wan was determined to be gentle for his padawan’s first time, as he teased a third finger along Anakin’s rim, still stretching him slow and easy.

He was slow until Anakin was begging him, crying “Obi-Wan, master – please, I need you-“ pressed so close, clutching at Obi-Wan’s chest, the desperation palpable within their bond. And who was Obi-Wan to deny his Anakin?

He slid his fingers out and slicked himself up, Anakin watching him intently, sitting up so that Obi-Wan could align their hips. It was a bit awkward, pressing into Anakin, since he had to lift off of Obi-Wan and press down slowly, taking a break every few breaths to adjust to the stretch. But Anakin was not didn’t seem to care – he took his time, closing his eyes and craning his neck when the stretch was especially good, as Obi-Wan’s hands found his hips to guide him.

When Anakin was fully seated, he let out a breathy moan, head tilted back and his braid falling over his collarbone. It was such a picture – his pretty, blushing Anakin – that Obi-Wan reaching up to run his fingers along the braid, the piece of Anakin that tied him to his master. Anakin’s eyes opened, and his breath caught as he leaned into the touch, into the bond.

It was beautiful, and intense, and everything Obi-Wan loved about Anakin, as he started to thrust shallow into him. Anakin moaned loud, bracing himself against Obi-Wan’s chest as he started to rock into the thrusts. Neither of them were going to last long, too caught up in their love, their need to show that love through this act. Obi-Wan tugged on the braid with his next thrust, and as Anakin sank down to meet him he cried out, dick twitching as he bit his lip and gasped. Obi-Wan couldn’t even keep track of the sounds coming out of his own mouth, too concerned about Anakin’s beauty – how he begged “master, more-!” how his pace sped up as he grew more confident in his own abilities.

Soon they were moving together in tandem – fast, and deep, but still so loving, as Obi-Wan slid both his hand down to Anakin’s hips, to guide him into something more deliberate than his frantic thrusts as he speared himself on Obi-Wan. They were both losing control, but Obi-Wan fought for some semblance of it as Anakin started to lose all sense of decency, all ability to rein himself in.

“Master, master, I need you, oh please-“ he cried, steading himself with a hand on Obi-Wan’s abs, eyes closed as he took in all sensation, the “master” sounding like a mantra on his lips, the only thing he knew that would bring him what he desired – a chant of trust and love. “Please – I-“

“That’s it, Ani. I’ve got you,” Obi-Wan replied, his own voice rough with desire as he tried to comfort his partner. His hand was a caress at Anakin’s hip as he thrust again and again, pressing Anakin down as he did so the thrust was deep and filling and knocked the breath out of them both every time.

“Master-!” Anakin cried, and he arched deep, his head thrown back as he came, untouched, across the both of them. Obi-Wan gasped, thrusting hard into him, the unbelievable pleasure seeping into every crevice of their bond, until all Obi-Wan could feel was love and pleasure and Anakin, always Anakin, always his Anakin.

Obi-Wan couldn’t hold on long after that. He came with a shout of Anakin’s name, hard and hot and so, so right.

It didn’t matter what the Order thought. It didn’t matter what the world considered right, what Obi-Wan had been lead to believe from so young an age.

This was right. He, and Anakin, and their love, and their bond that the Force sang with. That what was what truly right, and good, and pure. And he wouldn’t wish it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> this will likely be edited in the future because i'm definitely not happy with it, but i just REALLY need to write master!obi/padawan!ani. goddamn.


End file.
